


Boy, Interrupted

by Blaiser



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:12:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaiser/pseuds/Blaiser
Summary: Just a little insight into Adam's mind after he has become Schillinger's bitch.





	Boy, Interrupted

**Author's Note:**

> Sure hope this amazing fandom isn't dead/dying!? I used to be a part of it back in like '98-'99 or so, then I left for other ventures and found myself back for more 20 years later. This show is one of the absolute best EVER in my opinion:) 
> 
> I am not a native English speaker, so if you come across something grammatically incorrect please let me know. I'd appreciate it :) Also, regarding comments: don't feel shy. I love comments.

Staring at a stained, pimpled cell wall can sometimes feel as recreational as a fucking luxury Carnival Cruise, Adam Guenzel reflects. As long as you’re alone, of course, and can somehow distract your thoughts of the constant danger you’re in (and of what has been done to you, and most likely will happen again as soon as the hacks are gone or the lights are out), then you are basically as close to heaven as you’re ever going to get in a place like Oz.

It is hard though - impossible almost- to not think about all the shanks and knives made from toothbrushes and razorblades, and what other weapons your neighboring psychopaths have thought up and will gladly use on you should you ever get the idea of saying ' _enough'_. Even though Adam tries his best to empty his head of such things and just relax, they simply will not let go again. The danger is all too close and too real to ignore, even for a second; and the will to live - perhaps- too strong.

He has taken up residence in Genpop for little over two weeks now, and today is the first time he’s been allowed to spend hours on his own without having to either clean cells, do laundry or _serve_ Schillinger or one of his men. It is also the first time Schillinger hasn’t ordered him to his knees first thing in the morning; like it’s the most natural thing to force a cock down another man’s throat before even having a sip of coffee.

It seems as if something has changed, like he has gone from being something new and intriguing to being yesterdays news in less than a day's time. It could be for the better and mean he's off the hook, but Adam dares not hope so. He has seen too much already to have any illusions about the man he serves. Most likely he is just going to trickle down the Aryan chain of command like a chewed up toy at the dog pound.

For once a prag, always a prag as they say. _Just like Beecher._

“What cha doing, precious?” Adam looks up and spots Robson, standing at the doorway, squeezing his cock through the fabric of his pants. His dark eyes shines hungry in the light of the flurescent lamp, his teeth bared in his usual creepy smile.

It makes Adam’s skin crawl.

He knows what comes next.


End file.
